Dear Fnick
by bluewingedkitty
Summary: Dear Fnick, I know you probably hate me. In your shoes, I’d hate me too. But don’t crumple this letter up and throw it away. Not yet, anyways. I want to explain.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am on a roll here. I just had the urge to write this so, um, here it is. Oh, and promise me you'll listen to My Name Is Lincoln (look it up on YouTube) right before the end. Okay? **

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Dear Fnick,

I know you probably hate me. In your shoes, I'd hate me too. But don't crumple this letter up and throw it away. Not yet, anyways. I want to explain.

They told me you were dead. All of you.

You _know_ that I would never—_never—_willing leave you, any of you. All I remember of that night was a sharp pain, and numbness spreading all over my body. I tried to scream, I tried to fight, but I couldn't. I think they drugged all of you, but they only took me.

The next thing I remember was waking up in a white room, strapped to a hospital bed. I screamed and I fought but they just watched me coldly until I my voice wouldn't work anymore.

Then they said "They're all dead."

And I felt like I'd been dropped over the edge of a cliff. Then run over. By a sixteen wheeler. It was not...something I want to experience ever again.

I couldn't wrap my head around the idea. I don't know how long I was frozen, but it was a long time—a day? Two?

I think a little part of me died.

Actually, I _know _a little part of me died.

But it was like all the fight had gone out of me. All the life. I was just a shell. Without the flock, who was I? What was I?

I don't need to go into everything that followed. I think you know. It wasn't as bad as when we were little. I think it was because I cooperated. But I didn't feel the needles, really. Or the pain. I didn't feel much of anything. The other pain was much, much greater than anything they could do to me.

I was broken.

I'm not really sure what they did to me. I haven't got any new powers. It might have been worth it if they had. But all I have is a lot of scars that make me look like a drug addict. I'm okay, though. If you were wondering.

But one day, I had one clear thought. And it came to me in your voice.

_Why are you here? There are better ways to die. _

And I thought you were right.

So I escaped. I won't go into specifics. I will say that I gave them a pretty big slice from the giant pie of hell. Tell Iggy and Gazzy that the rudimentary bomb-making they taught me came in handy.

The bottom line was that I was on the streets of Boston having just destroyed the _Association_, (which I'm figuring is a branch of the Institute)and wearing a thin hospital gown.

Oh, yeah. It was February, too.

I stole. I had to. Some clothes. Mostly I scavenged. The streets of Boston weren't exactly welcoming, but with my...talents at surviving, I...survived.

For a while, anyways.

I was still kind of dead. I was surviving for something to do, but there was nothing for me to wake up to in the morning.

Until a little nagging voice said in the back of my head _Wouldn't you know if they were dead?_

Because I think I would. Maybe I'm delusional, but I have this _feeling_ that I would know if you were _really_ gone from the world.

Anyway, it was enough to give me a glimpse of hope. Enough to get me onto a computer.

And guess what I found? Your blog. You were, it seemed, not dead and pretty pissed at me. It looked like I'd ditched you, so I can't say I blamed you.

But that was like being electrocuted. _You were all alive. _

I must have looked really determined or really desperate when I left the library, because a young woman stopped me on the street and invited me in.

Jenna just told me she'd been where I was. I somehow doubted that, but I _was_ desperate, so I took her up on her offer, figuring I could always run later.

So I was showered and newly clothed, and fed, and warm, and Jenna turned out to be a computer technician. So I showed her a blog post. While that Itex laptop was untraceable, my mom's computer isn't.

So for once things seemed to be going my way.

I was sleeping when I heard Jenna talking to someone one the phone. Curious girl that I am, I picked up the other line in the bedroom. And who do I hear?

Jeb.

What where they talking about?

Me.

Specifically, where I was, and about 'arrangements'. Which was enough to get me out of there.

So I am on my own again, only this time I have a place.

Go ahead and give my love to Mom and Ella, and to the flock. Tell them everything I've told you up till now.

Fang, I just want to tell you that I love you, because I never had the guts to do it in person. And so I'm doing it now, scrawling it by the light of the moon, in a tree.

Real romantic. Ugh.

But, really, I mean it. I don't know why I kept running away. Because I had no idea what was going on? How I was supposed to feel?

But I want it straight: I love you. I love the way your eyes light up, even if you're barely smiling and the way your hair falls around your face, and the way that you look at me and I know exactly what you're thinking.

So I just wanted that out there.

Please. I _miss_ you guys more than anything that you could imagine. You have no idea what it felt like when I thought you were gone and the rush of hope when you weren't. I can't even begin to describe it. It was like half of me was gone and then suddenly it was back.

I would never leave you. Ever, Fang, EVER. And that goes for all of you.

So I know you hate me because you think I left, and I won't come back if it makes things difficult or anything.

But, please...don't let me lose you again.

By the time you read this, I'll be closer than you think. Just leave a note for me somewhere, I'll find it somehow.

Max

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**A/N I have no idea where that came from, but I kinda wanted to post it. So. There you have it. Something completely different from what I've written before. Hope you enjoyed? I dunno, I'm reading it again now and it's kinda...weird. **

**But My Name Is Lincoln is cool. So cool. **

**Still, I do believe the next thing I'm writing will be humorous. That was pure dead depressing. **

**And I haven't forgotten Before It's Too Late, I swear. **

**BlueWingedKitty**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Heh, I couldn't leave it hanging, now could I? Enjoy.**

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Dear Max,

Stupid. You are so stupid.

Yeah, we thought you ditched us.

In, like, December.

By February, we kinda figured you hadn't. You didn't have any reasons to. And then we got a picture from an unidentified source. It was of you. And you looked pretty much dead.

Since then, I haven't been blogging.

We've been _grieving_, you idiot. We thought _you_ were dead.

How could you think we'd _hate _you? There's nothing in the world that could possibly make us hate you. Make _me_ hate you.

How could you even _think_ that?

And now that I think about it, I'd _know_ if you were dead. So I suppose the score is even.

And, Max, I'm sorry. Truly sorry. We should have known that you wouldn't have left us. We didn't even _look_ for you. We _betrayed_ you.

I'm so sorry. There was no reason for you to go through all of that. And it's my fault.

I don't even know why you'd want to come back to us.

Maybe you want to know what happened?

Well, we thought you ditched us back in Boston. We waited. But it was cold and we couldn't...I am so sorry, Max, words can't even describe how sorry I am.

But we flew west. And maybe, unconsciously, somehow we ended up at your mom's house. And here we are.

I can't stop thinking about what you must have endured. Sorry can't even begin...

Angel knew something was up. She couldn't read your mind. We thought you were blocking her. Now we know...

But what was bothering me is that it never occurred to us that you were taken. Really bothers me, it seems so obvious now.

Angel thinks that they must have put something in the drugs to persuade us to think you left us. Apparently, now that's possible. Remember they were taunting us with those mind-games in Itex, when they said everything was a drug manufactured dream? _Then_ they were bluffing, but _now_ they can do something like that.

Still, I feel so guilty. I'm responsible. I know that, whatever Angel says.

So please don't go apologizing to me. I should be begging you to take us back. I can't stand it.

And I could never hate you. Never. Even when you left with Ari, I didn't hate you. I hated your choice, but never you. And the most painful time of my life, except for the last few months, was when we were separated. Not just us, the flock too. It just doesn't work when we aren't together.

But then there's you and me.

Do you want to know when I realized I loved you? The first time? It was right after we got Angel back from the School. We were at Lake Mead, and it was raining. That;s when you decided to go east. You were beautiful. Bloody, tired, and rain was streaming down you face. Beautiful. You looked at me. And I was done for.

_I love you_, I thought.

And, Max, you have no idea how sweet those words you wrote look, after waiting for them for so long.

I love you, Maxiumum Ride.

Thank you.

Angel says you need to come home now.

Nudge says she 'reallyreallyreallyreallyreally' misses you.

Gazzy says you're welcome for the bomb-making lessons.

Iggy says that you have far to go, in regards to the pyrotechnics. He also says it's about time you've come around to admitting your 'sexual tension'. His words, not mine. And he, too, says that you need to come home, as do your mom and Ella.

So I will beg you: come back Max. I am so, so sorry. I love you, and I don't blame you if you never want to come back now. But we really, really miss you. And you're an idiot if you don't think so.

I have a feeling you're really close by. And Angel is staring out the window into the woods. It's a bit of a hint, but she won't say anything.

Come back.

Fang

PS- Fnick. Really, Max. _Really? _

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**A/N Couldn't resist the Faxness that was calling me. And then I had to post it. Shorter, I know, but Fang is a man of few words. So...hope you enjoyed my late night ramblings? **

**BlueWingedKitty**


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Ms. Maximum Ride,

First of all, glad you're back. Seriously. Everything was a total and complete mess while you were gone. It was almost as bad as the time we all split up and you went to Europe without us (you _suck_, by the way. _Europe_? I wouldn't be as jealous if you went to, say, Kansas or something. But _Europe? _I mean, come on. Couldn't you have waited for us to have that big huge cheesy McCheese reunion scene and _then_ gone to Europe? No, apparently). Actually, it probably was worse. You have no idea how bad it was on our end of the stick.

But I get that your side sucked too, don't get me wrong. The whole thing kinda really sucked. I think we can agree on that, right?

So yes, I'm glad you are back, Max. I honestly, _honestly_ am.

As I was saying, everything was a mess. All of us were...myself included. But especially Fang. Oh, _especially_ Fang.

He was liked the Living Dead. I know Fang is always like The Living Dead, but this time, he managed to freak all of us out. I know Fang being a zombie isn't that far off the mark, but he was really _crap_. Fang was a Fang version of a zombie. It was like eat, sleep, sit and stare at nothing, repeat. It was bad.

Fang is the reason I'm writing this note, actually. You see, we members of your flock have all been aware of your suppressed sexual frustration/tension. We are not deaf, dumb and blind. Well..._I'm _blind, and I noticed. So it was obvious. Like running naked through traffic kind of obvious. Like running naked through traffic in winter. Singing the national anthem. With an army of ninja elves. Yeah, I mean, _real_ _subtle_, Max.

Note the sarcasm.

Anyways, while huge cheesy McCheesburger reunion scene number deux was enough to touch the heartstrings of this mutant (and that's saying A LOT. I almost barfed in my mouth on the beach reunion last time), it was still a bit...much.

Okay, the running across the field, sobbing, was dramatic and looked like it belonged in a terrible romance movie (that is to say, amusing, yet slightly over the top). Then Fang started running towards you. That would've been fine if we'd all done that and had a group hug or something equally clichéd.

But we didn't.

No, you two started Frenching each other. In front of Angel, and your mom, and God and everyone in between.

Too bad it wasn't raining. That might have 1) made things even more romance-movie ugh-worthy and 2) disguised the fact that you were kissing each other in a way that must be classified as a very high PG-13.

Oh, and then Angel initiated a group hug. End romance movie.

How do I know all this, you ask? Well, Nudge described it to me. In full, lustrous detail.

She's _eleven_. In case you forgot. Oh, yeah, and the Gasman's eight. I think he went back inside to puke or bleach his eyes or something.

And Angel, _who is six, _had to listen to your thoughts whilst you were first-basing. I am fourteen, and I am not sure I could handle that. I might have to kill myself afterwards.

Shame, Max. Shame.

So, though I express sincere joy at your homecoming (seriously, Max) I must, on the behalf of your mother, the poor, young, innocent children, and your biological sister who all deeply admire you, ask you and your, er, _beau_ to, for the sake of all that is pure and good in this world, CONTROL YOUR FREAKING HORMONES.

Like, seriously, _take it down a notch,_ Juliet. Romeo is not going anywhere anytime soon. He is not leaving your bed (Heh, that's what she said moment. Ahem)...side. Trust me. I tried. He will not move. Even to do the flipping grocery shopping. He's leaving it to the blind kid, the shopaholic, the eight year old who mimics voices and the six year old with mind control.

So Romeo is now pretty much a freak. Or a stalker. But you're not going anywhere, so he can't exactly be following you, right? But if you were, he'd be following you. It's the thought that counts, right? So he's a stalker.

The point is...

We're going shopping.

Dontcha love anti-climatic moments?

Your mom said to leave a note, cause you two lovebirds were sleeping next to each other and according to Nudge and Angel 'lookin' _so darn cute'_ (I'll take their word for it. That's something I don't need to see) and heavens know we didn't want to disturb you and the cuteness. Or you might wake up and kick our asses.

Oh yeah, and I told Gazzy to get a picture before you woke up. And he figures he'll live longer if you stay asleep.

Oh, and your mom swears if you ever do that again before you're eighteen, she will personally skin both of you. And I quote: "I know nothing happened. And nothing will happen for a very, very long time. Because if they do anything, um, _questionable—_or even somewhat close to questionable—then they will both be skinned in the most painful way I know." And seeing how she's a vet, with lots of sharp and pointy objects at her disposal, I'd take her at her word. So we thought we'd make the moment last a little longer.

You're welcome. Plus, you'll always have the pictures. Once again, you're welcome.

So that note is a little bit longer that _We're at the store, back in an hour_. But I thought you might enjoy it. Appreciate the effort, I even had to get Ella to proofread it for me. Oh and she says:

Hi Max! It's Ella. I'm SO SO glad you came back. We missed you. Fang, especially. But you know that already, right? Anyways, I think you guys are cute. Iggy doesn't, which is why he's writing this novel to you anyways. XOXO Ella

And now I'm back. So yeah, also, try and keep it PG around us normal folk. You star-crossed lovers can do whatever you want when you're alone (Ella, do not tell your mom I said that) but please. Spare us. Oh, and yourselves, because if you do anything past first base and Dr. Martinez sees it, you'll regret it before you can say PDA.

Oh, and the two of you (Hi, Fang, I know you're reading this over her shoulder) can prepare for a veeerry long and awkward chat with Dr. Martinez. And a veerrry long and awkward chat with yours truly. And Nudge too. And Ella.

Because what fun is having a boyfriend/girlfriend if you don't get teased mercilessly by those who you love dearly and would never kill?

You're going to kill me, aren't you. (That wasn't a question.)

Love ya both...

Iggy.

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Dear _Jeff_:

Too right I'm going to kill you. A 'welcome back, and we'll leave you two alone' would have been nice. But _ooooooh no_. You wrote that—thing. I will thank you to stay _out of my love life_, you freak.

You're lucky I'm tired, Iggy. You better hope I'm asleep when you get back because, trust me, there will be hell to pay.

I am fully aware that Fang and I "first-based". Who made _you, _of all people, the chaperone? _Thank _you for your unnecessary and completely uncalled-for commentary of probably one of the best moments of my life. Yeah. Thanks. A lot.

But that wasn't even what sealed the deal. Not even the Romeo and Juilet quip. Oh, Ig, by the way, if I'm Juliet and Fang's Romeo, than who are _you_? Paris? Because, you know, Paris dies. Romeo kills Paris. I think. Or maybe it was Juliet. An _angry_ and _bloodthirsty_ Juliet. Yeah. Not the _greatest_ analogy, now is it?

Not even the picture. Though for that, you can prepare for _major_ butt-kicking. And then I will find those pictures and destroy them. That bomb-making you taught me may be crude, but it is effective. Ask those Association people in Boston where their building is, if you don't believe me. So I'm sure I can take care of a few _pictures_.

No, you pig. It was the 'that's what she said' bit. It was one of those 'the last straw broke the birdkid's back', y'know. Incidentally, _your_ back is the one that'll end up broken. Although all the other parts of your charming letter helped guide me to this course of action.

Ella, I know you're reading this. I don't care if you are related to me, you are not off the hook, sis. _You_ were an _enabler_. You are encouraging him! DO NOT ENCOURAGE HIM.

And that goes for the rest of you. I am still the same Max. I will still hurt you. I am just a happier Max. But I will _still_ hurt you.

So be warned.

Oh, hi Mom. Don't worry about a thing. Me'n Fang'll be model boyfriend and girlfriend, okay?

Just as soon as I kill..._everyone_...in...my...family...

Oh, it's good to be back.

Max

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Dear Iggy,

You die.

Fnick.

**

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A/N: You can tell I wrote this late at night because I've reverted to my usual style: humor. But there it is. Are you happy now? Can I go back to procrastinating for Before It's Too Late?

**Oh, hey, and if you haven't heard, there are 2 Maximum Ride FanFiction Awards going on. One by Myrah and one by OutsideJokes. Go nominate and read through the nominees, I've read a couple of really good new stories that way. **

**AndIgotnominatedforOutsideJokes'andIamsupersuperexcitedIdon'tknowwhointheirrightmindwouldnominatmebutSQUEE!**

**Ahem.**

**Thanks for all the reviews and support, you guys. This is dedicated to you. I love them. Without you, this would be a one shot. Or a two-shot. But not a three-shot. Everyone who requested "More, OMG MORE", I am looking at you. Thank you all.**

**That said...**

**It is over. Done. Kaput. Finis. Got it? NO MORE CHAPTERS. **

**Love you all...**

**BlueWingedKitty**


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